


Tales of The Clans

by AceyAnaheim



Category: Dangerverse - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Danger Lupin, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 03:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11267352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceyAnaheim/pseuds/AceyAnaheim





	Tales of The Clans

For Lauren, the letter lifts a weight she didn’t realize she carried with her.  
It had been forming since her parent’s death and seen a gradual accretion in the weeks after when on top of grief she found herself dealing with a transatlantic move.  
Moving from sunny California to England’s constant cool and rain had been enough of a cultural shock. Going from a relatively free-reigned household to living with their aunt Alice, who’s idea of fun involved puzzles and knitting between chores and afternoon tea had been so jarring she had spent the first few days in a daze. She still wasn’t sure she had acclimated.  
Not to mention the fact that everything was closed by 11 pm.  
The green ink on the paper (parchment? ) is such a contrast to the gray dreary monotone their lives had become Lauren can’t help but look at it and blink a couple of times before what she’s reading finally registers. She can’t help but feel a surge of excitement. For all she knows it’s just a fancy way to send her promotional mail but it’s a break in routine. And the routine until now has been trying to swallow her whole.  
But instead it’ an invitation, to yet another change in scenery. This one in a magic school. Lauren had never been to one. She and her brother Liam went to regular school and practiced magic at home. The idea of going to a boarding school before-well before-would have made her cringe (uniforms and rules and never leaving school? No thanks) but now..well, now things are different. Now she's different.

She half expects her aunt Alice to say they’re not going. The flaky englishwoman seems quite comfortable staying shut in her house. Groceries are delivered every two weeks, and the home computer that both twins had been surprised to see, was used for both work and communication with the outside world.  
Lauren thought that was probably the worst thing to get used to, aside from the fact that she’d never see her parents again and-oh god she couldn’t think about that right now.  
Taking a deep breath, the girl tapped her nails on the table she was sitting in front of. The sound helped to ground her and before her mind could spiral-again- and she ended up a crying mess-again- she thought about some of the good things that the house had to offer.  
The house itself was nice enough, and the countryside beautiful in its own right.  
But to Lauren, who had grown up surrounded by people and a city that never slept, it all just felt..empty.  
Lauren had thrived on people back home, but she wasn’t home now. She was in a house so big, it threatened to swallow her, with an aunt who was always busy, or away, or just not there, a twin brother who was only a shadow of himself, and days that were just grayer and grayer.  
Her aunt was here now, pacing around the kitchen and talking about books and brooms and a school she apparently knew everything about.  
“And we must schedule a tour. I haven’t been to the school in ages. I hear there’s a new deputy now. I think Sage, your cousin on my side, may have had him for a teacher”  
Lauren can’t be sure if it’s the music that’s turned on for once, or the glow of the kitchen light, or the fact that his aunt is actually talking to her but everything feels a bit brighter.  
( even if the house still feels big)

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Liam hadn’t been that surprised to see the letter.  
He knows that he should be, he certainly never imagined that there was a boarding school for magic ( despite the fact that been a part of his life since memory served him.  
But staring at the green lettering feels no different than being told by his parents that they knew he had snuck out to the skate part with his older brother. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when.  
And the oddest part was that he didn’t know how he knew.  
He was sitting in bed, contemplating this, and trying to ignore the lump in his throat at the thought of his parents, when a knock at the door had him shoving the letter in his pocket and dragging a hand across his face.  
If it’s Lauren and she sees he’s upset, it would just upset her and Liam would rather sit through that Titanic scene than see his sister cry,  
If it’s aunt Alice and she sees he’s upset, she’ll try to confort him, probably say something along the lines of ‘there there’ and he certainly doesn’t want that.  
Despite how easily he seems to do it, biting his aunt’s head off just doesn’t seem like a good way to start the morning.  
He got up, and unlocked the latch that he still hadn’t uninstalled, despite his aunt perpetually complaining about it and Liam perpetually leaving it locked anyways, only to see his twin sister standing there.  
The same brown eyes Liam saw every day in the mirror were now staring back at him from his sister’s face, filled with excitement and accompanied with a smile Liam had worried he’d never see again.  
It’s because of that smile more than anything that when Lauren asks “did you get one too?” that Liam procures the crumpled parchment from his pocket.  
He doesn’t want to go, he wants to stay in his room and glare at the window until his world makes sense again.  
( ‘moping’ Lauren would say, ‘depressed’ Aunt Alice would murmur )  
But Lauren’s happy, happier than he’s seen her in a while, and to Liam that’s one of the few things that still actually matter.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Callum and Alvin are together when they get their letters.  
It wouldn’t surprise anyone who actually knew them. The only heirs to the Fowley and Nott families respectively, both boys were the scarce remnants of the noble sacred 28, the noble families that made up the Pureblood society after the war, or as their parents would call it “all that unpleasantness”

With the clans an ever looming threat, the purebloods that remained had banded together, trying to preserve their way of life as well as they could. Marriages and playdates were arranged only among those families of course, over tea. The alliances among the remaining eight-all that was left of the sacred twenty-eight- remained stronger than ever.

For the two eleven year old boys sitting on Alvin’s bed, who were as aware of their world’s political climate as a goldfish was of biology, this all simply meant that they had been friends since infancy and this suited them both just fine.  
Well at least Alvin was seating, Callum was jumping up and down as he re-read the letter for the umpteenth time.  
He certainly makes this more fun than it ought to be, Alvin thought glancing up from his letter to stare at the sandy-haired boy in front of him.  
“We get to pick a pet” he was saying between bounces, “I think I’ll go for a frog or an owl or-Oh! I’ve always wanted a Pygmy Puff. The pink ones are adorable”

As Callum’s bouncing began to shake the bed, Alvin reached out and yanked on the boy’s collar with eased practice. This resulted in his pureblood compatriot leaning against him, an arm around Callum’s shoulder pinned him in place and ensured no more bouncing. It certainly helped that Callum was what their house elf liked to call ‘a pipe cleaner with eyes’. Alvin on the other hand, despite being the same age took after his paternal grandfather and was already showing clear signs of broad shoulders and enough mass to keep his friend in place.  
“As the person who will have to hide this pet,” he said trying hard to play at being stern despite his smile “may I request something without a tank”  
Callum smiled cheekily in return.

The Fowley family oftwenty eight ( though both boys wondered why they were still called that when there were only eight of them now) were as pure-blooded as they could get without injecting cleaner fluid in their veins. Callum was expected to behave like a proper lord. And among the many things that Callum liked to do that proper lords did not do, owning a pet ( a slimy amphibian one at that) was pretty high on the list.  
Alvin’s own parents were far more relaxed about these things despite their pureblood status being more noted than most ( a Nott and a Greengrass, with distant relations to the most noble house of Black)  
This had resulted in Alvin becoming the one to cover for other pureblood children when they wanted to break their parents’ wishes.  
Mainly Callum’s.  
“Didn't want a frog anyways” he mumbled shifting a bit so both boys were comfortable. “Jump too much”  
“Merlin knows you do enough of that yourself”  
Without warning, Callum shoved Alvin off the bed.  
Or tried to anyways, again he was a pipe cleaner with eyes, and again, Alvin was not.  
The resulting scuffle had both boys on the floor until a pop made them both look up.

“Little Master and his friend are to stop this racket this instant!” the house elf screeched hands on her hips “you will be waking the baby”  
“Sorry Brilly” Alvin muttered looking properly cowed. Callum unsuccessfully stifled a giggle.  
Brilly had been in charge of Alvin since the boy was born and had been given authority over him by his parents for about that long.  
The end result was of course, that Alvin was as afraid of Brilly as he was of his own mother.  
For the sake of his friend, Callum tried to look cowed as well.  
Brilly’ s expression softened seeing her charge's honest apology. Callum thought they might get away without a lecture.  
“Little Master is getting not-so-little anymore,” the house-elf said, killing Callum’s secret hopes of not being lectured and signaling for Alvin to lean down so she could brush off and straighten his robes. “He is getting to an age where he is not to be horsing around like a centaur. He is to be a proper young lord-and proper is not to be rolling eyes at Brilly!”  
“Yes Brilly,” Alvin said, though he was biting back a smile.  
The house elf seemed satisfied and turned to Callum.  
“Little sir's father is wanting little sir to go home for dinner” she said and Alvin saw his friend visibly deflate “He is waiting for little sir in the parlor”  
Callum frowned at that, he had been hoping to sleep over at Alvin’s. Alvin seemed to realize this and Callum found himself caught in a one-armed hug.  
“I’ll see you at this month’s covenant dinner” Alvin murmured and that gets a tentative smile out of Callum “and before that, for Diagon Alley”  
That perked him up, the covenant dinners were held among the remaining pureblood families, usually in one of their states. The adults took it as a time to strengthen alliances and strategize, to speak about contracts and most recently the dangers of The Clans.  
For children like Callum it simply meant he and the boys and girls he had grown up with ( half of them cousins) would visit and after dutifully hiding their boredom at their parent’s talks they would be allowed to retire to his room and catch up themselves.  
The visits to Diagon Alley were as much a tradition and as much a thought for him to cheer up. Ever since the two boys knew each other-which meant pretty much their whole lives, Alvin’s father had taken them to Diagon Alley for school supplies, Callum’s Lord Father was more than glad for the free time since he had so much to attend to at the state. Callum for his part was always glad for the hours it saved him from being home, especially now that his mother had gone away due to pregnancy issues.  
So much trouble just to keep the heir and the spare thing going, the eleven year old mused. He knew he’d get a sibling out of all this and Alvin said his sister was fun to have around but Callum didn’t see the appeal. Not when it took his mother away from him and left him imagining companions to pass the time on days his friends from the covenant were unavailable.

After goodbyes had been exchanged-Alvin tapping Callum on the forehead to tease another smile out of him before letting go- Brilly escorted Callum out to his father who stands there look every bit real and dignified as of a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight should.  
Callum thinks of his rumpled robes, the undignified horsing around and exploring of the closed-off rooms, and suddenly wishes Brilly had straightened out his robes a bit more.

His father seems to agree, a small grimace passing his face at his son’s appearance.

“We...we wanted to look at things from the past of The Twenty Eight” he says lamely eyes wandering down at his father’s fixed stare. The elder Fowle looks slightly placated ( learning about one’s history may be the only acceptable reason to look like this, Callum can see him think)  
“You’ll change before dinner and look….presentable” he says and it’s a statement of fact, no arguments taken “we have company”

Callum knew better than to try to argue, or say anything for that matter. He lets his father put a heavy hand on his shoulder and lead him to the fireplace, disappearing in green flames after calling out “Fowle Estate”  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Helen Hart shifted in the uncomfortable chair offered to visitors by St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and pouted.  
She knew having siblings meant you had to share the spotlight. She was the second youngest of four sisters, she was well used to it she was. But that didn’t keep her from thinking about how when her oldest sister Anna got her letter they all made her favorite meal for dinner. How when Alice got hers, her parents took her out for ice cream.  
And what do I get for my letter, the girl thought mulishly, two stupid babies.  
Of course she knew, deep down in what Anna liked to call the rational side of her mind that her sister hadn’t meant to have her twins today, or go into labor scant seconds after Helen’s letter arrived.  
But it didn’t really make up for the fact that she’d had to stay in the hospital during her celebration ( something that for once would be hers and only hers) and would probably get none to begin with.  
“Oi, mind if we sit here?”  
Helen was interrupted from her thoughts of the general suckiness ( was that even a word? It was now) of her current life by a rather light voice and looked up to see not one but two people.  
They were about her age, wearing casual robes and a muggle dress respectively.  
“I’m Riley Adams” the one wearing robes says. He’s got a soft voice, green eyes and hair that seems to be somewhere between red and brown. He pointed next to him, to his companion who by contrast had brown eyes and blonde curly hair.  
“This is Marissa Reid”  
“Helen Hart” she says sticking out her hand, because she already told them to sit down “nice to meet you”  
“You got a letter too!” Marissa points out after they’ve shaken hands, pointing towards the letter clutched in Helen’s hand and showing one of her own “glad they can deliver them here right? It’d be horrible if we missed em just because they’re delivered home”  
It’s the last comment that makes her look up and stops her from telling them to bugger off and let her sulk in peace.  
“You guys are stuck here too?”  
It never occurred to her that she might not be the only one stuck with the tragedy of being withheld a celebration.  
“We’re always here for my mom’s birthday” Riley supplied “kind of a drag really, there's no way for these chairs to be comfortable….”

“Right!” Helen jumps in, glad to have someone understand her tribulation “you’d think they’d have at least better cushions since we’re always waiting for them to do everything. And there’s nothing to do!”  
Having someone agree with her Helen found made this whole situation better.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rosaline doesn’t really know what to make of her letter.  
Her life-all eleven years of it- was turned upside down twice now. First when her brother married a witch named Theresa ( a good one, however, like Glenda or Sabrina) and then again when her mother married a werewolf named Alaric ( but also a good one...or at least so he says) and they had to move in with him all the way from Ohio to stupid England.  
Personally, Ros thought that people in her family needed to stop marrying.  
Noah’s nice at least, she thought, and it’s probably the nicest thought she’s had so far.  
Noah Parkinson lived two houses down from where Ros was staying with Theresa’s family.  
“We’re your family too Rosaline. You can call me grandma if you want” Mrs. Abott had said and Ros had wanted to say that she already had a family and a grandmother and that they knew she didn’t like vanilla cake, and would have never bought her the pink handbag Theresa’s mother thought looked darling on her.  
But her brother had been there, giving her a look that fluctuated between “you better behave” and “Rois I know but please please just take the gift” so after a subtle eye roll, Ros had done just that.  
She had met Noah two weeks later after they and some people had wanted to talk to Rick ( as her stepfather liked to be called) and their mother about marrying and living with a werewolf.  
The pretty letter inviting Ros-or rather announcing she had no choice but to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had arrived a week after meeting him and now here they were, in the room Ros and her mother were currently sharing while Madam Currie the Guinea Pig ran around in a ball between them.  
“My dad went there” he said leaning his face in his hands “so did my aunt but we...uh we don’t talk to her”  
So far Ros had learned she would be going to a boarding school in a secluded castle that might or might not be haunted.  
And that wasn’t even the worst part.  
“So I don’t even get to room with you?” she had said raising an eyebrow and trying her best to keep her voice at inside voice caliber despite the disbelief and childish indignation.  
The only good thing Ros could take from this whole mess she now called her life was that she’d get to spend more time with the only friend she had managed to make this side of the pond.  
Even that was apparently now denied to her.  
Noah dared a glance at Ros and knew from her expression Hogwarts had just lost a major point.  
“Hogwarts isn’t really co-ed” he said somewhat apologetically and wasn’t surprised in the least when Ros buries her face in her hands “so..I have to room with blokes”  
“And I gotta room with girls” she finished mumbling into her hands, the American slang and patterns of speech coming out in her dismay. Noah’s honestly surprised she wasn’t more upset. The witch had made it clear just what she thought about certain gender roles. One of the first stories she had shared with him was about how she and her mom had tried to sue so she could join the Cub Scouts.

The fact that she constantly got picked on by girls back in America probably didn’t help matters much. Noah had always been called observant by his father and he thought maybe they were right. He noticed the way Ros was wary around other girls, always awaiting a snide comment, always on guard. He noticed how she seemed to gravitate towards boys but with a different kind of wariness as they expressed their disdain for girls ( maybe it was normal for their age but it made him mad. They were hurting his friend, being ‘normal’ didn’t make it right) had noticed the wide-eyed surprise in her face when he approached her and the delight when he told her of the clans ( apparently no one had thought it wise to tell her why she was here) and Quidditch and shared interest, making it a point to do so in front of other boys daring them to say anything.  
He noticed when her defenses went down, albeit slightly when beneath the passion and rants a friend started reaching out to him.  
To take that away over something as trivial as “he’s a boy, she’s a girl” did kind of seem silly and almost mean.  
Noah, who had heard multiple rants and an interesting limerick on the subject,had honestly expected much more than the flat voice and the resigned stare Ros had on.  
Then again, he thought, she’s probably heard it her whole life.  
“We’ll still see each other at feats and things like that” he said trying to go for a placating tone “and I mean you are a girl”  
Noah knew that last part was a mistake the moment it left his mouth. All of the fight he had expected seemed to come back to Ros and Noah braced himself as his friend’s green eyes got that look to them, turned to fierce burning emeralds.  
“I…”  
Whatever Ros had started to say however got caught up in her throat. The anger that had been her simmered down and she closed her eyes with an audible snap.  
Noah very carefully changed the subject.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a house in London Jimmy Calderon- Boot talked to his cousins about that very same letter which for them had yet to arrive. He sat next to his older brother and felt his stomach sink as the conversation shifted towards school, inevitably coming to Illervony the very school his own ancestors had founded. He tried to hide into his plate as the conversation then went to the fact that he would be starting school there next term.  
The questions that came were ones he had no answer to. What house would he be in? What sports would he play? Would he follow in his parent’s footprints or his siblings when it came to his course of study?  
He glanced at his brother all but begging for a change of subject and Hector, the best brother in the world, starts regaling the table with his latest adventure as a P.R. intern for an American Branch of Wizard’s Magazine.  
The relief Jimmy feels flooding him is enough to make him want to hug his brother-if he wasn’t so busy trying to stay invisible.  
They were all sitting down at his Uncle Terry’s house. And by all them, he meant the entire Booth family.  
Everyone knew the story of the Boot emigrating to America and founding one of the oldest school in America. Some even knew that while one of the brothers had come back to start the Booth family in England, the younger brother had stayed behind and married into the Calderon family.  
Every summer, Christmas, and New Years, the families got together for a reunion that included transatlantic travel and Jimmy receiving twice as many questions as to what he was doing with his life.  
Nevermind that he had only been alive for eleven years.  
“Jimmy’s going to be a Thunderbird” Tessa, his younger sister had provided after Hector finishes his story, at four she’s not nearly as well versed in tact or the fact that Jimmy does not want to deal with this subject as her older siblings “just like all the Boots since Chad-wick Boot’  
She splits the first name in two syllables, like someone who just learned to say it. A possible Thunderbird in the future, her vocabulary has developed at a fast rate, having learned to read a year before, Jimmy had no doubt she’d also uphold the expectations of a descendant of the school’s founder.  
He only wished he was that sure of himself.  
All the Boots, the America Boots Uncle Terry would point out, have been in the house Chadwick Boot had founded the boy thought and could barely keep his distaste from showing on his face.  
Jimmy knew he was supposed to be happy, grateful even that he was a descendant of Chadwick Boot. he had prestige at Ilvermorny, freedom to attend and visit a school many Magicals would have paid for. His family was greatly known in the American Wizardry Circles.  
And if he had success to go with that, the way his siblings ( even baby Tessa) did he might appreciate that fame more. As it was, he wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had no accomplishments or was in any way gifted but whenever people realized who he was, they always shot him the most incredulous look.  
As if they could not believe that this chubby kid with glasses was really Chadwick Boot’s and Josefina Calderon’s legacy.  
Family reunions such as these were probably the only exceptions.  
Although Jimmy had been thinking of another possible one.  
“Are the clans getting together this month” he asks finally looking up from his plate and reaching for a biscuit biting into a treat he only gets to savor once or twice a year. ( it’s his great aunt’s recipe and uncle Terry is adamant about hogging the recipe)  
The question seems to throw his mother and uncle off ( his father is talking to some of the other wizards about business and Quidditch and his sister’s new healer job)  
The involvement of the British branch of the family had been recent and had yet to interfere with the family reunions.  
Uncle Terry said it never would, family, after all, was important.  
It all had led to the Calderon-Booth side of them never really seeing or meeting the clans that often.  
But it hadn’t kept Jimmy from being curious, hadn’t kept his cousins from owling him weekly, telling him about the get-togethers and painting a picture for him of singing and dancing and a place where there are no expectations other than living your life.  
Uncle Terry looks at his mother who shrugs as if to say she has no idea where this question came from. Uncle Terry shrugs back and looks at Jimmy.  
“Yes” he says carefully, and seems unsure of how to phrase what he’s going to say next.  
“Would you want to go Jimito?” his mother asks and it throws both him and his uncle Terry for a loop. She fixes the elder Boot with a look that makes it clear she was tired of him hesitating and then gives her son a look that conveys she expects an answer.  
Carmen Calderon-Boot embodies the archetype for Hispanic mothers everywhere. She is unapologetically loud, full of fast-spoken opinions, and the moment one of her children feels something she hones in on it like a hawk.  
Jimmy nods, unsure of what he’s so nervous about. The Calderon-Boots don't know much about the Clans ( they’re a very British thing after all) but they have nothing against them.  
Minorities in the U.S. after all, are no strangers to a strife-formed community.  
But there is an unspoken rivalry between British and America, between Ilvermorny and Hogwarts. Between Webster and Chadwicks’ descendants.  
( it’s friendly for the most part but still very much there)  
Maybe that’s why he’s nervous, why it feels like he’s abandoning the community he’s born into for another. But his mother smiles and he realizes that he probably had nothing to be nervous about.  
Except of course the fact that his dream to meet the founder's kids ( someone who might understand him a bit) has been realized and Oh Sweet Morrigan what if they hate him or worse, think he’s lame.  
When a letter arrives via owl addressed to a Booth child, nearly taking his sister’s plate down in it’s landing, Jimmy smiled, an idea starting to form.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Howin Tam knows of the clans even though she’s not a part of them.  
Mostly she knew they weren’t kind to her māma( very few narratives involving her and Harry Potter were) Her sister said it had something to do with fans ( for the man who lived surely had many of those) rooting for Ginny Weasley and against the Chang witch who later bore her from the very beginning.  
But that’s all Howin really knows about the clans. That and that her other mother hates them and that her step father thinks they’re “revolutionary”  
“What I get for marrying an American, honestly” is all her māma has to say. Neither of them dares bring them up around her mum, however.  
Cho Chang and Pansy Parkinson's friendship and budding romance had been a surprise to everyone who had returned to the school after the battle of Hogwarts.  
Everyone that is, who had not known Cho personally or was privy to the fact that she had dated Marietta Edgecomb whilst pining for the boy that would one day be known as The Man Who Won and head of The Wolf Clan.  
Hogwart’s Asian community for instance, of which both girls, along with Luna Lovegood, were a part of, were completely in the loop.  
So was Minerva McGonagall but according to māma, the woman sort of just knew everything that happened, even before she was the deputy.  
Howin remembered fights between her parents, not many and mostly towards the end, but always about The Clans. Her mum’s soft voice cutting and rising as she talked about them ‘encroaching on us” while her māma talked back in a placating counterpoint.  
Them mum left and years after that, māma married William Tam and I got a sister and a dad on top of the two moms I have, the girl mused feeling oddly lucky to have more than two parents and a sister, even if the sister was old enough she did not live at home. The divorce had been a sad occasion to her but at the very least she could still see her mum and her māma was happy and William was fun.  
Shed dipped her quill in the ink and thought for a moment before starting the letter she was composing.  
She had her own study room, one of the benefits of being an only child. Between her māma being a Ravenclaw and her stepfather the son of scholars, Howin had garnered a love for books that gained her her own library-apart from the bigger library connected to her step-father’s study and which was mostly her māma’s domain.  
And then I have another one at mum’s, she thought, capping the inkwell and waiting for the ink in her letter to dry. One of the so-called perks of divorced parents.  
It was such a silly thing, Howin thought, to tell a child whose family was fracturing that “at least you get two of everything” of course they did, they had to.  
But she had to admit, the privacy was nice. Especially when it came to receiving her correspondence.  
It wouldn’t do for her mum to now that she had been talking to her cousin.  
She had met Noah in Camelot after her māma had taken her there on a whim.the place had been having a celebratory sale of some sort. Her māma had run into some old acquaintances from her school days and after a short and clipped encounter, they had had to leave.  
In that short encounter, however, Howin had met her cousin, and the two had decided after a short talk of share interests to owl each other weekly.  
“Your mum...aunt Pansy, she doesn’t really like me” he had said right before she was ushered away by her māma “might do best if you keep our letters a secret”  
And so Howin had, using only her study to send, compose, and receive letters from Noah Parkinson.

Her parents ( all three of them) hadn’t really asked questions.  
Howin was a good child, after all, she did her lessons and minded her house-elf and followed the rules of both the pureblood household of her mum and the traditional Chinese household her māma hailed from.  
Howin was poised, and proper and altogether told she was the best of both her cultures.  
She didn't know much about the clans but she was learning more and more about them.  
When the owl her mum gave her on her seventh birthday arrives, carrying a letter with the Hogwarts stamp on it, the scream that tears out of Howin is improper and not poised and knocks the house elf backward, curses and crashes mingling with her manifestations of joy.  
Māma comes home to find the house elf muttering under his breath and William and Howin rattling off a list of school supplies and mapping out a route to Diagon Alley.


End file.
